


Three Chords and the Truth

by WizardGlick



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Holidays, M/M, Musicians, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardGlick/pseuds/WizardGlick
Summary: Stuck on campus during Winter Break, Sock gets roped into attending his college's "Winter Wellness Initiative;" weekly meetings for students who aren't going home for the holidays. Resigned to a boring Winter Break, Sock agrees to attend only to learn that his longtime crush Jonathan is staying on campus as well.
Relationships: Jonathan Combs/Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski | Sock, Mephistopheles/Providence (Welcome to Hell)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's cliche to put "I'm bad at summaries" in your summary, so I'm doing it here instead: Good GOD am I bad at summaries  
> Anyway, blah, blah, blah, I wrote this on my phone, please excuse/point out any weird typos
> 
> Also, a note, because my time on Tumblr has made me paranoid about people deliberately and automatically assuming the worst of me:  
> I mention exactly twice that Mephistopheles is Jewish as a shoutout to my friend who 1) cosplays Mephistopheles and 2) is Jewish  
> There are also subtler shoutouts to Sock being Latine (because, guess what, my friend who cosplays Sock is Chicana), and to Jonathan being Japanese (because, you'll never guess, I cosplay Jonathan and am Nikkei). That's it, it's not That Deep, please don't try to ascribe weird, malicious motives to me if you don't like what I wrote.
> 
> Further headcanons employed that actually do directly impact the plot:  
> Meph plays the violin (and can fiddle-- he does both. Look I know it's Word of God that he can't but it's MY fanfic and I make the rules)  
> Jonathan plays guitar  
> Provi plays the harp (get it-- because, because angels... and heaven... get it)

It was finals week and Sock was staring down the barrel of his most difficult exam yet. Two hours and three mini-essays were all that stood between him and freedom. Well, the relative freedom that came with being stuck on campus during Winter Break while everyone else got to leave.

Sock sat at his desk and kicked his feet, staring at the open blue book in front of him. It wasn't so much that he didn't understand the material, but that he didn't like writing his thoughts down; he worried too much about using the right words.

It made Sock feel especially silly because he knew Mephistopheles wouldn't nitpick his phrasing.

Mephistopheles (or "Meph" for short) was something of an enigma on campus. No one seemed to have any idea what his legal name was, why he went by the nickname, or even where it had come from. Every term, he introduced himself, wrote "Mephistopheles" on the board in a messy dry erase scrawl, and left it at that.

He also happened to be Sock's major advisor and made no secret of the fact that Sock was his favorite student, which suited Sock just fine.

Sock finished his essays with a good thirty minutes still left on the clock. He read them over once, read them over again, changed nothing, and went to turn in his blue book.

Mephistopheles was sitting at his desk doing the bare minimum of supervision;

he had a paperback book tented on the table in front of him and was folding paper airplanes out of old copies of the syllabus.

Sock set his blue book on the stack and was just turning to go when Meph caught his eye and jerked his head toward the door. Sock nodded and followed him out.

"What's up?" Sock asked in a low voice. This particular class met on the second floor of the library, in a side classroom that had once been a computer lab. Through some failure of architecture and acoustics, voices tended to carry in the hall.

"You mentioned you were staying on campus for Winter Break, right?" Meph asked.

"Yeah."

"I need a favor."

"Go on?"

Meph stuck his hands in his pockets. "Weeeell, I got volun-told that I'm pioneering a new initiative on campus to combat student loneliness and depression on campus over Winter Break."

"I don't think I like where this is going," Sock said, picturing a Winter Break full of pushing papers and hanging decorations.

"I'm not exactly jazzed about it either. I  _ told _ Admin I was busy with my bluegrass group but,  _ no _ , 'we're getting special government funding for this, you have to!' Anyway. It's just." Meph made a face, thinking. "Well, essentially, it's a day camp. We're supposed to meet up in the Student Union at 1:00 every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."

"Wait, is this the Wintertime Wellness Initiative?" Sock asked.

"That's the one."

"I've seen the fliers around campus."

"Made those myself," Meph said, not looking particularly proud of his efforts. "Anyway, I need you to come to the meetings and participate. It's gonna be  _ so awkward _ and I need this to go well."

"Ummm," said Sock, frantically wracking his brain for some kind of excuse.

"And for every meeting you attend, your name gets entered in a raffle to win a 3-foot-tall chocolate snowman."

"I'm in!" Sock said.

"I also have a fairly generous snack budget, so," Meph made a face of feigned innocence, "if a list of requests somehow makes its way to my faculty email…"

Sock's eyes went wide. "Keep an eye out for my demands."

"Alright, will do." Meph turned to leave. "I gotta go back in there before people start thinking they can cheat."

"How do you cheat on a religion essay?"

"Prayer? I dunno." Meph shrugged. "See you on Monday."

"Mm-hm." Sock turned to go.

He'd already returned his textbooks, so he really was well and truly free. The idea left him feeling kind of aimless; he hadn't made any plans.

He decided to hang around the library and get started on his list of candy requests for the first WWI meeting. He started scanning the tables for somewhere to sit and happened to set eyes upon possibly the only person on campus he could call a friend.

He walked over to the table and braced his hands on. "Hi, Jonathan. Okay if I sit here?"

Jonathan nudged his headphones with the back of his hand, exposing one ear. "What?"

"Can I sit here?"

"Sure." Jonathan went back to his book, but left his headphones askew.

"Whatcha readin'?" Sock asked, looking at the upside down text.

"Long story," Jonathan said. Sock thought he wasn't going to elaborate, but he put the book down and looked up at Sock. "My mom is in a book club and she asked for help unpacking a couple chapters of  _ Tender is the Night _ ."

"Oh," said Sock. "Is she gonna bring you to the book club meetings or what?"

"No." Jonathan made a face, dulling the catchlights in his blue-gray eyes. "I'm staying here over Winter Break."

"That's great," said Sock, pasting on his most artificial smile, "because boy do I have an opportunity for you."

"I don't think I like where this is heading," Jonathan said.

Sock's smile wavered. Plowing ahead, he continued, "I got roped into going to these WWI meetings on campus, y'know, the Wintertime Wellness Initiative--"

"Ugh, I've seen those fliers around." Jonathan eyed him with undisguised suspicion.

"You could win a giant chocolate snowmaaan," Sock said in a sing-song voice. Jonathan continued to frown at him, evidently unmoved by the prospect. Throwing dignity to the wind, Sock leaned in and tried to look cute. "Please come with me. I told Meph I would go--"

"Wait, Mephistopheles is running WWI?" Jonathan broke into a smile. "Sold. I gotta see  _ that _ dumpster fire unfold."

"He's gonna do great," Sock said firmly.

"Sock. We are talking about the man who had to take a mental health day because he dropped his cold brew 3 seconds after buying it. It's going to be a shitshow."

"As long as you'll be there, I guess," Sock sighed.

\--

Sock spent the better part of the weekend recovering from finals week, and dead week before that. This mostly involved cocooning himself in his blankets and sleeping for upwards of 10 hours at a time, emerging every so often for snack breaks.

He was almost surprised when he woke up and it was Monday. He looked around his barren dorm room and frowned. His roommate had gone home for the holidays, leaving only the bare minimum of possessions behind.

Sock wondered if he should buy some Christmas lights.

He was still thinking it over when he arrived at the Student Union at 11:45. The doors were unlocked and Mephistopheles was inside rearranging some chairs into a vaguely circular shape. On the table next to him sat a black softshell instrument case surrounded by grocery bags.

It was eerie to see the Student Union so empty. With only half the lights on, the space felt strangely cold. Sock wouldn't have been surprised to see a tumbleweed roll across the ugly linoleum floor.

"Morning!" Sock called, coming farther inside.

Meph jumped, then turned smoothly around like nothing had happened. "Hi."

"Want some help?" Sock asked, already poking around in the grocery bags. "Did you get Pixy Stix?"

"Yes, but they're for  _ everybody _ , okay?"

"Of course," Sock said, starting to unpack the bags. His gaze fell back on the instrument case. "What's that?"

"What's what?" 

"The thingy?" Sock nodded at the case.

"Oh, that's my violin." Meph, evidently satisfied with the rearranged furniture, turned to face Sock. "I mentioned it earlier, remember? The Bluegrass Appreciation Club meets right after these dumb-- Uh, right after these  _ lovely _ meetings."

"Oh, yeah." Sock thought for a moment. "You didn't mention you  _ played _ anything."

"Well, yeah? I don't just post up in a room full of old fuddy-duddy white guys and  _ talk _ for three hours." Meph pushed up his sleeves and started helping Sock with the grocery bags. "It's more like… Jam sessions."

Sock hid a laugh behind his hand. "Nice outfit, by the way."

"What's so funny?"

"I've never seen you wear anything other than a suit before," Sock said, looking Meph up and down. He was wearing dark wash jeans and a bright blue Hanukkah sweater.

"You're wearing sweats," Meph pointed out. "Now are you gonna help me unpack this stuff or what?"

"Okay, okay." Sock grabbed a grocery bag at random and began to arrange its contents on the table.

"You would not  _ believe  _ the rules Admin laid out for me for this," Mephistopheles said, picking the price sticker off a box of snowflake-shaped sugar cookies. "They decided the least problematic way to address Winter Break is to refuse to acknowledge that there are any holidays happening at all. So you'll notice everything is winter themed and I am not allowed to show Christmas movies."

Sock frowned. "But they let you wear the sweater?"

"Not per se, but I'd like to see them try to stop me," Meph said. "Anyway, the three-hour-long training meeting I had to sit through was mostly about not saying the C-word." At Sock's questioning look, he added, "Christmas."

"That's…" said Sock, baffled. "Wow."

"No fuckin' kidding."

Twenty minutes later, Sock was squished in next to Jonathan on a loveseat while the first victims of Mason University's Wintertime Wellness Initiative made introductions.

It was a small group of about 12 students, none of whom looked too excited about being there.

When introductions were through, Mephistopheles consulted a battered white binder filled with multicolored paper. "Uh, Admin was kind enough to provide me with a list of suggested activities." He sighed through his nose. "Okay, uh, first up is… Oh, they've  _ got  _ to be kidding." He glanced heavenward and sighed again. "Trust falls. Any volunteers?"

Silence.

This was it. This was why Sock was here.

He raised his hand. "I'll go. Jonathan will catch me."

"Don't sound so sure about that," Jonathan grumbled, but he stood up just the same.

"Uh, okay, great. Show us how much you trust each other. Try not to get a concussion."

Sock and Jonathan stood in the center of the circle and, without fanfare, Sock fell into Jonathan's waiting arms.

The maneuver lasted less than a second, but it was more than enough time for Sock's brain to go haywire. Something about the sensation of falling reminded him how he'd felt the first time he ever saw Jonathan Combs smile.

They were both Freshmen, paired up for a group assignment in one of Mephistopheles' classes. They were in the library working and Sock had made some dumb, juvenile pun about René Descartes and Jonathan, who had been gloomy and reticent all year, well… Maybe it was the stress of Dead Week or maybe it was all the caffeine in his system, but Jonathan had first smiled, and then started to laugh.

The swooping sensation in Sock's chest was the same. He was falling.

Jonathan's hands were warm and solid on his back.

"And that's how you do a trust fall," Meph said, studying his fingernails with an expression of utmost boredom. "Who's next?"

Trust falls did not take long, and soon they were all seated again looking slightly more relaxed than they had before.

"Excellent," Meph said. He retrieved his binder from the floor and flipped it open. From the agenda, he read, "'Secret Snowman gift exchange'." He went quiet for a moment, reading something on the sheet. "Oh, okay. It's just Secret Santa; a Christmas thing dressed up in a non-denominational costume. Questions?"

Beside Sock, Jonathan hid a snicker by pretending to scratch his face. No one raised their hand.

"Great," Mephistopheles said. "Now to draw names." He looked around. "Sock, let me borrow your hat."

"No way!" Sock said, clutching at the flaps in case someone tried to take it from him.

"Just for a sec; I don't have anything to draw the names from." Meph held out his hand.

"Fine." Sock sighed and handed over the hat. He immediately ran a hand through his hair, feeling self-conscious and overly exposed.

"Have a cupcake, you'll feel better." Mephistopheles began tearing a piece of electric blue computer paper into shreds.

Ignoring Jonathan's muffled laughter beside him, Sock got up and made for the snack table. By the time he returned, plate piled high with mini cupcakes (one of which Jonathan immediately stole), Mephistopheles had finished with the paper. He passed Sock's hat over to Jonathan. "You know the drill."

Jonathan drew his paper and passed the hat to the left, away from Sock.

Sock watched it go around the circle with no small measure of anxiety. When it came back to him, he snatched the paper out and put the hat on without even looking at it.

"Oh, one more thing," Mephistopheles said, flipping through the binder and examining the pages. "There's no spending limit listed on here, so just… Y'know, don't be an asshole? You're all broke anyway, there's no need to show off."

Hat firmly in place, Sock unfolded his slip of paper and held it close to his chest so nobody else could read it.

There, in Meph's chicken-scratch handwriting, was the name: _Jonathan_ _Combs._

Hurriedly, Sock folded the paper back up and stuffed it in his pocket. Beside him, Jonathan gave no indication whatsoever of interest in what Sock was doing which, Sock had to admit, was par for the course.

Jonathan was the  _ re _ active sort, very rarely acting on his own impulses. All Sock had to do was act natural, and Jonathan would have no idea.

Unfortunately, acting of any sort had never been in Sock’s wheelhouse. He glanced nervously over at Jonathan and the paper he was just folding up, then looked away.

“Okay, well,” Mephistopheles said. He consulted his binder one more time. “Yep, those were the only things on the agenda for today. Jeeze,” he added in undertone, “who wrote this thing? Well, anyway. Uh, talk amongst yourselves, I guess.”

“Man,” said Jonathan, facing Sock as well as he could with the two of them squished into an undersized loveseat, “you didn’t tell me I was gonna have to spend money.”

“I didn’t know!” Sock said, with feeling. After a heartbeat, he added, "I'm sorry."

"Dude, chill," Jonathan half-smiled at him. "I was kidding. I can afford a $5 candle from Walmart or whatever."

Confused and somewhat agitated, Sock shoved a fistful of chocolate pretzels into his mouth.

Jonathan observed this with raised eyebrows. "You're gonna get chocolate all over your face. It melts fast."

Sock made a face and flipped Jonathan off with a chocolate-covered hand. Jonathan responded in turn and got up to get some napkins.

"Thanks!" Sock said. He reached out for them but Jonathan held them up and let them fall like confetti. " _ Thanks _ ," Sock said again, with much less enthusiasm."

"You know me," Jonathan sat down beside him. "I aim to please."

When the meeting was over, Sock made a point of waiting until Mephistopheles was engaged in conversation with another student before making off with what was left of the Pixy Stix. He walked so fast he was almost winded by the time he hit the doors on the far side of the room.

"Wait up!" Jonathan jogged up and fell into step beside him. "So I guess you're, like, the only person I know here. Do you wanna go record hunting with me tomorrow?"

"I'm flattered," Sock said. He ripped the top off a purple Pixy Stix and poured its contents into his mouth.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you were my last resort," Jonathan said. He brushed his bangs out of his face. "I just meant--"

"I know." Sock smiled. "Sounds fun! What time?"


	2. Chapter 2

The main problem with agreeing to go record hunting, Sock mused as he crouched over a crate filled with beat-up Bee-Gees vinyls, was that he didn't own a record player. The secondary problem? It was boring as hell. At the very least, maybe he could get a good idea of what to give Jonathan for the Secret Snowman exchange.

"What are we looking for, again?" he asked Jonathan, who was pawing through a crate of his own.

"Anything weird or cool," Jonathan said, not looking up.

"Are the Bee-Gees weird or cool?"

"Sure, if you're into dad rock," Jonathan said, a hint of derision coloring his voice.

"Let me know if you see any Eric Clapton."

"Sure." Sock didn't even know who Eric Clapton  _ was. _

He stood up abruptly and faced the massive display window so he could watch the cars and passers-by. In the reflection, he could make out a ghostly Jonathan kneeling by his feet and the shopkeeper pretending not to watch them.

"Can we get coffee after this?" Sock asked.

"Sure." Jonathan glanced up and caught Sock dancing in place. "Why did you agree to come if you're not going to look at the records?"

_ Because I wanted to spend time with you _ , Sock did not say. He shrugged. "Seemed like fun?"

"Yeah, I can tell you're having fun," Jonathan said, unamused.

"Don't let me stop you from doing your thing," Sock said. "I'll just, I dunno, look at the costume jewelry."

"I'll go fast," Jonathan said. "But I also wanted to go down to Divine Seventh if that's okay?"

"What's that?"

"It's a music shop. It's more expensive than Guitar Center, but it's independently owned and close by. I buy new strings for my guitar there."

"Oh." Sock meandered off to see what else the antiques shop had to offer. In the bottom drawer of a massive wooden TV stand, he found a box of vintage-style Christmas lights. They were rainbow, with hard plastic bulbs. Pleased, Sock took them back up to the front.

Jonathan was finally moving away from the records. He had one tucked under his arm.

"What'd you find?" Sock asked.

Jonathan smiled. "Steely Dan! Talk about dad rock."

They made their purchases and headed back into the winter cold. Jonathan looked up at the purple sky and adjusted his scarf around his neck. "Looks like it might snow."

"I hope so!" Sock said.

Divine Seventh wasn't far from the antiques shop. As they came in, the bell on the door jingled discordantly against the beautiful, clear sound of someone deftly playing the violin.

The shopkeeper didn't appear to notice them. She was leaned over on the counter, her head propped up in her hands, staring dreamily at something. Sock studied her for a moment. Her hair was the most intense artificial purple he had ever seen. It was beautiful.

Following her gaze, he saw that she was staring transfixed at none other than Mephistopheles, who was bowing away on an elegant rosewood violin.

Glancing up, he stopped playing mid-stroke, causing the violin to shriek like a frightened bird.

"Uh, hi," he said.

The shopkeeper jumped and turned to face them. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in!"

"It's okay, Prov, I know 'em." Meph put the violin and bow back on the display shelf. He turned to Sock and Jonathan. "I was just, um, testing out the merchandise. You never know when you're going to drop your violin and knock the bridge loose and have to send it off for specialty repairs halfway across the country right before you're supposed to do a private charity concert for your local old folks' home."

"Riiight," said Jonathan. "I'm just here for guitar strings." So saying, he put his head down and marched over to the display.

Sock watched him go. "I don't play anything," he said, mostly to break the silence.

"It's never too late to learn," said the shopkeeper.

"Oh, right." Mephistopheles straightened, evidently feeling some obligation to make introductions. "Sock, this is Providence."

"That's not my name," she said, but did not elaborate further.

"Providence, this is Sock."

"That  _ is _ my name," Sock said.

"Sock and Jonathan are part of that initiative I was telling you about."

Providence nodded, a teasing smile on her lips. "The 'waste-of-time babysitting gig'?"

"That's the one."

"Should I be offended?" Sock asked. "I feel like I should be offended."

Jonathan gasped. They all turned around to look at him.

"Is this a Moonsault?" he asked, awestruck. He was staring at the hanging display of guitars, his gaze fixed on a yellow one with a body shaped like a crescent moon. His eyes were wide with reverence.

"Yes, but's an Eastwood, not a Kawai," Providence said. "The previous owner was very specific about that."

"It's perfect," Jonathan said. "Like I could ever afford a Kawai anyway. I can't even afford  _ this _ ."

"You're welcome to play it, if you'd like," Providence said.

Jonathan turned around and, seeming to remember where he was, frowned. "Oh, it's okay." He came up to the counter and dropped the small bag of strings. "Just this."

Sock watched him, a curious pain in his chest. Very few things got Jonathan to smile the way that moon-shaped guitar had. Sock couldn't deny it was cool, even if he didn't get what the big deal was.

"It's snowing," Meph said, glancing out the display window that made up the front of Divine Seventh.

"Ugh." Jonathan pocketed his strings and walked over specifically so he could nudge Sock with his hip. "Let's get going before it gets worse."

"But coffee?" Sock pleaded.

"Okay, okay."

Jonathan headed for the door. Sock caught it and stopped in the doorway. "Bye, guys!" he said, waving cheerily at Mephistopheles and Providence.

"Bye, Sock," said Providence.

Meph just waved.

\--

Sock arrived early at the Student Union again to help Mephistopheles set up for the day's Winter Wellness Initiative meeting.

"So Providence, huh?" he said, peeling the plastic off a box of candy canes.

"What about her?" Meph said, fixedly not looking at him.

"Do you liiiiike her?" Sock asked. "She was making eyes at you before Jonathan and I came in?"

"Was she?" Meph asked, looking pleased. Then he caught himself and returned his attention to the WWI binder, flipping through it at random.

"You should ask her out," Sock said.

" _ You _ should mind your own business," Meph said, flushing.

"What's all this embroidery floss for?" Sock asked, emptying out a grocery bag full of threads in every color of the rainbow and then some."

"You'll see," Meph said, snatching his violin case out from under the pile of threads.

Across the way, the door opened. Sock grabbed a candy cane and went to claim the loveseat before anyone else could get near it.

  
  


"You got this," Meph said, deadpan, not looking up from his phone. "Put your back into it."

"I'm gonna kill him," Jonathan said, looking uncharacteristically flustered. His fingers were entangled in multicolored strings of embroidery floss that were anchored to the back of a chair. "I'm gonna take all these stupid threads and--"

"Look, I find murder as sexy as the next guy," Sock said, trying not to smile. "But maybe keep your voice down?" He was trying very hard not to laugh at Jonathan, but it was difficult. They were supposed to be making friendship bracelets using esoteric instructions someone from the registrar office had emailed to Mephistopheles specifically for the Winter Wellness Initiative, but it wasn't going well.

"This is  _ not _ helping my mental. health." Jonathan was clenching his jaw. Sock watched the muscles jump and relax, jump and relax.

"Let me try."

"By all means."

"Nothing to it but to do it," Meph said. He took a sip of his coffee.

"I hate him," Jonathan said. He stalked over to the snack table to take out his anger on what was left of the donuts and muffins.

Sock looked at the threads in front of him, then down at the instructions. Disregarding the words entirely, he looked at the pictures and started moving his hands.

After a few minutes, Jonathan came back. "How are you doing that?" he asked.

"You're gonna hate me, but I dunno!" Sock didn't look up, not wanting to lose his place. "I just tried to copy the pictures."

"Remember," said Meph, "you're the CEO of your own life."

"Is he reading from a list of empty motivational platitudes?" Jonathan asked, a note of legitimate anger coloring his voice.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this worked up about anything,  _ ever _ ," Sock said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I just." From the corner of his eye, Sock saw Jonathan looked around at the other WWI participants, then back at Sock. He lowered his voice to a mumble. "I'm fine."

Sock worked in silence for the rest of the meeting. It wasn't his usual style, but every time he tried to engage Jonathan in conversation, he'd get stonewalled until he ran out of things to say.

Mephistopheles ushered everyone out of the Student Union at exactly 1:00 o'clock, his violin case slung over his shoulders like a backpack.

"C'mon, c'mon, some of us have places to be."

Sock tried to catch Jonathan so he could give him the friendship bracelet he had made, but Jonathan slipped away at a surprising clip, his head down.

Unsure of what else to do, Sock continued to the dorms at a much slower place, tucking the friendship bracelets into his pocket. He scanned himself in and made for the elevator, hesitating before punching the button for Jonathan's floor. If Jonathan didn't want to talk, he didn't have to answer.

Sock had only been to Jonathan's dorm room once before. He paused in front of the door, unsure if he had the right one 

Unbidden, the phrase "nothing to do it but to do it" entered his head in Mephistopheles' voice. Sock knocked.

"Jonathan? I'm honestly not sure if you're in there, but I…" He trailed off. "I want to cheer you up?"

Jonathan opened the door. His eyes were dry, but he was obviously upset. He had his lips pressed together like he was trying not to cry. "What's up?" he asked with faux-casualness.

"You seemed upset," Sock said, "and I thought you might want to talk."

"Not really," Jonathan said, but he stepped aside so Sock could come in.

Sock took his shoes off at the door and lined them up neatly beside Jonathan's. "I can tell something is bothering you."

There was nowhere to properly sit, so Sock crawled up on the empty desk without waiting for an invitation. Jonathan perched on the edge of his bed. "It's stupid," Jonathan said.

"Bet you it isn't," Sock said.

"Alright, fine." Jonathan crossed his arms. "I miss my mom."

"Thar's not stupid at all," Sock said. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask why Jonathan was staying on campus for Winter Break.

Jonathan sighed heavily and continued, "She got a seasonal job, so there really wasn't any point in me flying all the way back home just for her to be too busy and to hang out with me. She doesn't even have Christmas off. I don't really care about  _ that _ , but I at least wanted to spend some time with her."

"That's hard," Sock said. He wanted to go over and wrap his arms around Jonathan, but he didn't think it would be well-received, so he just sat there on the desk.

"Yeah, well. Nothing to be done about it," Jonathan said. "Anyway. You asked."

"Well, yeah," Sock said. "I care about you."

"Ew." Jonathan smiled at him. "Feelings are gross. Forget I said anything."

"I made you something!" Sock hopped off the desk and pulled the friendship bracelets out of his pocket. "Hold out your arm."

"No way," said Jonathan, already doing it. "I don't want to wear some stupid friendship bracelet."

Sock tied it around his wrist, his fingertips brushing against the skin. "Too late! Now do me." He handed Jonathan the second friendship bracelet and stuck out his arm.

"I can't believe Meph made us do this," Jonathan said, rolling his eyes. The tips of his fingers were rough with guitar player's calluses, but the touch itself was feather-light, cautious. "What are we, twelve?"

"I think it's a cute idea," Sock said, happily admiring the way the braided band of green, purple, and black looked against his golden-brown skin.

"You would," Jonathan said.

"You know you have to wear that bracelet forever, right?" Sock asked.

"Oh, yeah?" Jonathan examined the knot Sock had tied. "Or else what?"

"It's bad luck," Sock said. "But if you wait until it falls off naturally, you get to make a wish!"

"I can make a wish right now," Jonathan said.

Sock stuck out his tongue. "You know what I mean."

"I do, I do." Jonathan leaned back, pushing his hands into the mattress. "I won't take it off, Sock."

Sock leaned in so they were nose-to-nose. "Proooomise?"

"Yes." Jonathan laughed and pushed him away. "I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

Sock couldn't stop thinking about Divine Seventh. Something about the light smell of incense, the gentle lighting, the quiet made it seem like a safe place.

Not to mention, the look on Jonathan's face when he had seen that peculiar, moon-shaped guitar.

And the shopkeeper! He was desperate to know more about her. Before Sock and Jonathan had disturbed them, Providence had been staring at Mephistopheles like he was the only thing on Earth that mattered.

All this, combined with a hefty dose of boredom, led Sock to bundle up in a heavy coat, pull his scarf up over his chin, and walk downtown.

Again, the cheerful bell on the door jingled, again interrupting the sound of music. This time, it was Providence playing a harp that most definitely had not been there last time.

She looked up and smiled at Sock when he came in, then brought the piece to a gentle close.

"Hi," said Sock, looking at the harp. "Where'd that come from?"

"I special ordered it for a customer," she said. "For them to pick up later."

"You're really good!"

"Thank you, Sock," she said, beaming at him. "Did you decide you want to learn an instrument after all?"

"No," Sock started to explain, but he was interrupted by the familiar tinkle of the bell and a cold breeze at his back. He turned instinctively and met eyes with Mephistopheles. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he was holding two paperboard coffee cups.

"Ah, hi," Meph said, looking strangely guilty. He placed both cups on the counter in front of Providence and leaned back against it, his eyes still on Sock. Sock smiled at him, a slow, deliberate thing that showed all his teeth. Meph did not acknowledge this. "Don't let me get in your way," he said, his gaze fixed on a container of brightly-colored shaker eggs.

"Oh, right!" Sock returned his attention to Providence. "I actually just had a question."

She leaned against the counter and cocked her head. "Yes?"

"You remember that guitar my friend was looking at the other day? The moon-shaped one? What's the deal with it?"

She thought for a moment. "Mostly that it's awesome." Meph snickered. She gave him a hard-to-read look and continued. "The original Kawai Moonsault is a rarity these days. The Eastwood Moonsault is a replication of Kawai's design. The shape is the appeal, from what I understand."

"Oh," said Sock.

"You can go look at it if you want," Providence said. Sock watched her look at Meph, who was still staring at the shaker eggs in apparent fascination.

"Thanks." Sock let them be and walked over to the guitar display. The yellow Moonsault was still there, hung up between two other electric guitars of standard design. Sock went straight for the price tag. He caught the delicate paper in his fingers and turned it over. $350. He could afford that. It would mess up his grocery budget and probably result in an annoyed call from his parents, but he  _ could _ afford it.

Sock reached for his wallet and remembered he hadn't brought it, as he hadn't  _ really _ intended to buy anything. He had expected the guitar to cost more, but… Sock glanced back at Meph, who was leaning over the counter talking quietly with Providence. He would come back later and buy it.

Taking a step to leave, Sock hesitated and once more turned his attention to Mephistopheles and Providence. He didn't understand why Meph would deny that he liked her. Even as they talked, he was staring at her with a look of ardent devotion. When he glanced away, she would smile fondly at him. In the ambient overhead lighting, their dark eyes glowed gold. If Sock hadn't been told otherwise, he would have thought they were deeply in love. It made no sense.

Shaking his head, Sock made for the front door. "See you later."

"Bye, Sock!" Providence. "Hope to see you back soon."

The door shut. Sock shivered at the sudden drop in temperature and headed back for campus.

The gray clouds overhead threatened snow. Sock walked along as quickly as he could, pulling his scarf up to cover as much of his face as possible. It started to snow when he reached campus, so he didn't linger. He made straight for the dorms, scanned in, and sat down in the lobby to catch his breath.

The thought of going back to his half-empty dorm was oddly depressing. He thought of the box of Christmas lights still sitting on the otherwise barren desk, then thought of Jonathan. Sock stood up and went for the elevator.

The walls in the dorms were notoriously thin. Even the quietest sounds tended to carry. From the elevator, Sock heard the faint sounds of an acoustic guitar. As he got closer, he could hear Jonathan singing in a voice so quiet he was barely sustaining notes.

Sock knocked. Behind the door, Jonathan made a noise of surprise and music stopped. A moment later, the door opened 

"Hi," Sock said with a wide smile.

"Hi." Jonathan eyed him. "What's up?"

"I need some help putting up my Christmas lights."

"Okay. Good luck." Jonathan started to shut the door, but Sock stopped it with his foot. "Yes?"

"Jonathan," Sock whined. "You gotta come help me."

"Alright, alright." Jonathan slipped out and shut the door. Under his breath, he said, "I wasn't doing anything."

Sock ignored the sarcasm. "Great! Then you have no reason to be upset."

Jonathan yawned and nearly walked into Sock. He steadied himself against Sock's shoulder, the seat of his hand amplified on Sock's skin. "You're freezing."

"I went for a walk," Sock said. They piled into the elevator and Jonathan yawned again. "What were  _ you _ doing?"

"Practicing guitar," Jonathan said. "Vibing."

"Emphasis on the 'vibing'?" Sock teased. At Jonathan's questioning look, he added, "You seem sleepy."

"Oh." Jonathan brushed his bangs out of his face. "Yeah."

They reached Sock's door and he stepped aside to let Jonathan in. 

"How come you haven't put your non-denominational festive lights up yet?" Jonathan asked, pausing to take off his shoes.

Sock shrugged. "Lazy?"

"Oh, great." Jonathan gave him an accusatory look. "You're going to make me do it alone, aren't you?"

Sock flopped down on his bed. "Maaaaybe."

"I can just leave, you know."

"But  _ then _ who will help me put my lights up?" Sock asked. He sat up and gestured to a blank stretch of wall. "I think I want them above my bed."

"You have hooks?"

"Nah. I have push pins."

"The Housing Office is gonna crawl up your ass," Jonathan said.

"Let 'em." Sock hopped off the bed and grabbed his push pins out of the desk drawer. "Okay, tell me if this looks even to you."

Jonathan backed up against the bedframe on the opposite wall. "Okay."

"So I went back to Divine Seventh," Sock said, climbing up on his bed.

"Why?"

"To say hi to Providence! She's nice."

Jonathan took in a breath like he was going to go off on a point, but only said, "Okay?"

"Guess who was there." Sock stood on tiptoe and jammed the first push pin into the wall.

"No."

"Meph!" Sock said, turning to look at Jonathan.

Jonathan looked at him with a blank expression. "Testing out violins again?" he ventured.

"No!" Forgetting the Christmas lights, Sock turned around and leaned against the wall. "He brought her coffee! I went back to look at the-- Uh..." He faltered, not wanting Jonathan to know he'd been looking at the Moonsault guitar, "The thingies."

"The thingies?"

Sock, mind maddeningly blank, tried his damndest to think of an instrument. "You know, little round, high-pitched guitars?"

"Ukuleles?"

"No," Sock said, getting into it now, "the little round things."

Jonathan bit his lip. "Um."

"Mandolins!" Sock snapped his fingers, pleased at his save. "Anyway, they pretty much completely ignored me the whole time, they were so busy gazing into each other's eyes and whispering."

"Okay?" Jonathan puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "What about it?"

"They're  _ obviously _ in love!" Sock exclaimed. Remembering what he was doing, he shuffled to the other side of the bed and stuck another push pin into the wall. "But I asked Meph about it and he was all shifty and weird."

Jonathan scoffed. "Isn't 'shifty and weird' his default state?"

"That's not nice," Sock admonished. "Can you pass me the lights?"

"Yeah." Jonathan took the Christmas lights out of the box and passed the coil over to Sock. "So what, are you going to try to Parent Trap them?"

"Huh?" Sock paused to look at Jonathan again. "No, I just want to watch the drama unfold. Don't you?"

Jonathan broke into a grin. "If there's drama to be had."


	4. Chapter 4

Sock overslept the next day and arrived at the WWI meeting after it had already started. He wasn't normally prone to insomnia, but he had the terrible notion that someone might buy the Moonsault from Divine Seventh before he could get to it and stayed up half the night worrying about it while rainbow lights beamed themselves into his retinas.

He stumbled into the Student Union, grabbed a maple bar, and wedged himself onto the loveseat next to Jonathan.

"Mornin'," Meph said, evidently unbothered by his lateness. "Take a flier." He passed over a small sheet of paper.

"Mmph," Sock said, biting into the donut.

"It's always a great idea to mix your personal life with your professional life," Mephistopheles said, dropping the flier in Sock's lap, "which is why I let the other members of the Bluegrass Appreciation Society bully me into inviting you guys to our Chr-- Holiday show."

"It says 'Christmas' on the flier," Jonathan pointed out.

"No, it doesn't." Mephistopheles waved his hand. "Anyway. In case you can't read, it's this Saturday at Spotted Owl Pizza. Wings are half-off if you bring the flier. If you come, please don't do anything that would embarrass me."

"And here I thought the violin case was just a conversation-starter," Jonathan said.

"You know me," Meph replied, not even deigning to look at him, "always thirsty for attention."

Jonathan folded up the flier and stuffed it in his hoodie pocket. Sock finished his donut and leaned in. "How about a private concert?"

"Oh, I'd sooner die," Meph said. "No, you guys are playing hide and seek today." Jonathan made a face and Meph continued, "You want to know something ironic? I think they took this agenda from a summer Bible study camp for kids. No joke."

Sock looked at the friendship bracelet on his wrist. "I think it sounds fun!"

"Great," said Meph. "You can be the first seeker."

Hide and seek was more exhausting than Sock remembered. He leaned against Jonathan on their way out of the building.

"I'm dyiiiing."

Jonathan rolled his eyes but didn't push him away. "You're fine."

"Hey," Sock said suddenly, straightening up. "You're coming to Spotted Owl with me, right?"

"Ugh." Jonathan wrinkled his nose. "Bluegrass and drunken crowds? Hard pass."

"I don't want to go aloooone," Sock whined. "I won't have anybody to talk to."

"Meph will be there," Jonathan pointed out.

"Yeah, but he'll be  _ busy _ . C'mon, Jonathan, I know you don't have anything better to do. I'll even pay for food."

_ This _ got Jonathan's attention. "Really?"

"Whatever you want," Sock promised 

"Alright, sold." Jonathan stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Yay!" Sock grabbed Jonathan by the arm and started steering him away from the dorms. "Now come on."

"Uh, where are we going?"

"Divine Seventh! We gotta bring Providence a flier."

Jonathan let himself be led along. "Why, exactly?"

"So she'll come to Spotted Owl."

"Again, why?"

Sock shrugged. "For the drama?"

"You  _ sure _ you're not trying to hook them up?" Jonathan asked. "I don't know if this is a good idea. Maybe we should just leave it alone."

"Oh, come on, Jonathan." Sock smiled. "I know you better than that. You want to see what happens too."

"Yeah, but…" Jonathan thought for a moment. "It's better when it's organic."

As it turned out, Providence was not only already planning on attending the concert at Spotted Owl, she had a stack of promotional fliers on her counter.

Jonathan immediately took off to go make eyes at the Moonsault, leaving Sock to explain himself.

"I thought you'd be interested 'cause, you know, music."

Providence smiled at him. "I'm well-acquainted with the members of the Bluegrass Appreciation Society. They're the only people in town who buy banjo strings."

Sock considered this. "I guess that makes sense."

"So, Sock." Providence leaned against the counter and rested her chin on her hands. "You're sure you don't want to learn an instrument? You seem like a ukulele person."

"Oh, I dunno," Sock said. "Seems hard."

"It  _ does _ take practice," she agreed.

"I'm not really a 'practice' kinda guy."

"Fair enough." She shrugged. "Let me know if you ever change your mind." She raised her head and addressed Jonathan, "Why don't you test out the Moonsault?"

"I can't afford it," Jonathan said wistfully.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," she said, not unkindly. "You can still play it."

"Really?" Jonathan looked dubious. "Are you sure?"

"Of course! I love it when my customers play for me."

Jonathan looked between Sock and Providence, then away. Sock expected him to say no, to make some excuse and hightail it out of there. Instead he said "okay" and gently took the guitar down off the wall. Not looking at either of them, he tuned it by ear and started to play a song Sock didn't recognize.

Sock glanced over at Providence. She was watching happily, but not with the same dreamy-eyed expression she'd been wearing while watching Meph. Sock smiled, triumphant, and looked back at Jonathan.

When the song ended, Jonathan was blushed, put the guitar back, and mumbled something.

Seeming to sense his discomfort, Providence said, "How long have you been playing guitar?"

"Oh, ah, since I was a kid," Jonathan said vaguely.

"You're good."

"Thank you."

An excruciating silence descended. Sock said, "So we'll see you at Spotted Owl?"

"I'll be there," Providence promised.

With their mission completed and Jonathan still blue-screening, Sock saw no reason to prolong this particular visit. "Alright, we'd better get going."

"Bye." Providence wiggled her fingers, a playful wave goodbye. "See you Saturday."

\--

Spotted Owl Pizza was crowded, bright, and  _ loud _ . Sock loved it. He dragged Jonathan over to an unoccupied booth and sat down. "Good, they haven't started yet."

"You mean it's going to get  _ louder _ ?" Jonathan made a face.

Sock ignored his complaining. "Providence is here!" He stood up and waved.

Jonathan glanced over his shoulder. "You're inviting her to sit with us? We barely know her."

"Are we a little grumpy?" Sock teased. He leaned over the table and opened Jonathan's menu for him. "Why don't you get an appetizer and maybe you'll cheer up."

"I hate you," Jonathan said, though there was no real conviction in his voice.

Providence finally weaved her way through the crowd and approached their table. "Hi."

"Wanna sit with us?" Sock asked. "It's not the best view, but at least we're close."

It was true. Spotted Owl was a split-level building, and their table was almost directly above the lobby where the Bluegrass Appreciation Society was currently warming up.

"Sure, I don't mind." Providence scooted in next to Jonathan. "I've seen them play a thousand times."

Sock grinned. "Oh, yeah?"

"Sure," Providence said, either not picking up on the teasing or willfully ignoring it. "They're always doing shows around town. I'm surprised you  _ haven't  _ stumbled across one."

"Yeah, well, we're usually cooped up on campus," Sock said. "Meph is my major advisor and he never brings up his personal life or anything."

Providence laughed. "How professional." She turned to Jonathan. "Do you perform?"

Jonathan's cheeks flared pink. "Nah," he said with distinctly forced casualness.

Sock learned several things that night, none of which were useful to him in any way. First, Mephistopheles was really damn good at the fiddle. Second, Providence was a master at turning a conversation around to avoid answering questions about herself. Third, Jonathan Combs could demolish a plate of hot wings faster than a school of piranha on a cow carcass.

Sock was still puzzling this over when they said their goodbye and began to walk back to campus, laden down with leftovers.

"You," he said to Jonathan, adjusting the cardboard pizza box he was holding so it didn't dig into his hip, "should do eating contests."

"I really don't eat that fast," Jonathan said. "You were just too busy trying to interrogate Providence to pay attention to me."

"Oh!" Sock was suddenly worried. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to ignore you!"

"I know and I don't care." Jonathan waved a hand. "I was listening to the music anyway." After a pause that was too short to be organic, he said, "So, um, I'm not that tired. Do you want to, like, come watch movies or something?"

Sock's excitement was immediate and all-consuming. "Yes!" he said, powerless to stop his smile from taking over his face.

"Cool," Jonathan said. "I don't really have anything in mind, so let me know if there's anything you're dying to see."

Sock didn't care. He would have sat there and watched paint dry if it meant he got to spend time with Jonathan. "Titanic?"

"That's morbid."

"Hey, at least I didn't suggest The Silence of the Lambs."

"Ugh." Jonathan shuddered. "Okay, Titanic it is."

Jonathan's dorm had nowhere to sit but the unmade twin bed wedged up against the wall.

"Whoops," Jonathan said, and hurried over to spread the duvet over the bunched-up sheets. Then he surveyed the room, arms crossed over his chest. "Hm, I guess I didn't think this through. We could sit on the floor?"

"No way." Sock hopped upon the bed and patted the area beside him. The idea of spending three hours on the hard floor as his tailbone slowly went numb was  _ not _ an appealing one, especially when there was a perfectly good bed right there. Jonathan may have been shy, but Sock was not. "Come on, I don't bite."

"Unless I ask nicely?" Jonathan said warily. He grabbed his laptop from the desk and joined Sock on the bed.

"Unless you piss me off," Sock said sweetly, stopping his wild train of thought before it left the station.

"Right," said Jonathan. He grabbed a pillow and thrust it at Sock. "Here."

They tried a few different (and increasingly convoluted) configurations before they ended up sitting side-by-side with their backs against the headboard and legs sprawled out before them. They were pressed up against each other with no room for polite personal space. Sock could have rested his head on Jonathan's shoulder. The thought did occur to him, followed by the thought of Jonathan freaking out and making him leave, so Sock stayed perfectly upright with his hands in his lap and his legs crossed.

Sock had no intention of staying the night in Jonathan's dorm or doing anything even mildly untoward. He wasn't even aware he was falling asleep until he woke up the next morning with a sore back and Jonathan's chin digging hard into his cheekbone.

Sock froze, his eyes going wide. He was wrapped around Jonathan to an embarrassing degree, with one leg slung over both of Jonathan's and an arm over his chest. His head was resting somewhere near Jonathan's shoulder, and Jonathan-- Jonathan was nuzzling Sock in his sleep. Oh. Oh, fuck.

Sock wasn't sure what to do. There was no way he could extricate himself without waking Jonathan up. Maybe if he got up fast enough, he could leave before Jonathan even figured out what was going on.

"Sock?" Jonathan lifted his head.

"Oops?" Sock said, rubbing his face where Jonathan's chin had been. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on ya." There wasn't really room to sit up, but he managed it anyway, balancing on his tailbone with his feet hovering above Jonathan's shins.

"Oh, uh, yeah, no, it's totally cool." Jonathan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, not looking at Sock.

"Anyway," Sock said, not seeing any way to salvage the situation. "I'd better get going."

"Yep," Jonathan said. They hadn't made eye contact once since they'd started talking. He was still gazing at the floor.

Sock studied him for just a moment. His hair was mussed and his eyes were half-lidded, all sleepy and hazy. He yawned and leaned back with his arms braced against the mattress. "See you Monday!" Sock said. He hopped off the bed, grabbed his shoes, and barreled out the door without pausing to put them on.

It wasn't even that he didn't  _ want  _ to wake up in Jonathan's arms, he mused in the elevator-- Quite the opposite in fact. But not like  _ that _ .

Sock sighed and let himself into his dorm. Dropping his shoes in the middle of the floor, he got into bed and burrowed under the covers. At least Jonathan hadn't seemed to mind.

Sock closed his eyes and let his mind wander, though he guided it carefully around that morning's awkwardness. He had to make time to go to Divine Seventh and buy the guitar before someone else did. Divine Seventh was closed on Sundays, so Sock decided he would go tomorrow instead of attending the Wintertime Wellness Initiative meeting. Meph would be a little sore about it, but that was okay.

Mind adrift in disjointed scenes of Jonathan playing the Moonsault, Jonathan smiling at him, Jonathan holding him close, Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan… Sock fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"Can you do me a favor?" Sock stood before Providence, the Moonsault guitar on the counter between them.

"Sure," she said, writing out the receipt.

"If Jonathan comes back and asks who bought the guitar, can you please not tell him it was me?" Sock was having a hard time looking at Providence, or even at the guitar. He was strangely unable to hold still, shifting his weight and twisting his hands in the hem of his sweater vest.

"Christmas present?"

"Something like that, yeah." Sock finally looked up at Providence only to find that she was wearing an uncharacteristic frown.

"Did you walk here?" she asked.

"Yes," Sock said.

"Hmm." Providence continued to frown thoughtfully at the Moonsault where it sat, placid and undisturbed, on the counter before them. "I just sold my last guitar case, and I'm sure you don't want to carry that out in the snow."

In the end, Providence wrapped the guitar in a complex shroud of grocery bags and packing tape, leaving Sock to carry it back to campus in an awkward lover's embrace.

He wasn't overly careful in the dorms, since Jonathan would be at WWI still. Simultaneously nervous and excited, Sock stashed the guitar under his bed, kicked a layer of laundry over it, and left for the Student Union without stopping to catch his breath.

He arrived to a familiar scene. Mephistopheles sat alone in his usual chair, scrolling idly through his phone. He looked up when he heard the doors open and, upon seeing Sock, took on an accusatory posture. "I thought you ditched me for good!"

Sock ignored this. "Where is everybody?"

"Hide and seek was such a hit last time, I decided to make everyone play again." Meph looked at Sock. "Not sure what I'm gonna do with you."

"I need to talk to you, actually," Sock said. "In private."

"Well, as you know, I have big, important plans after today's meeting."

"Oh, did bluegrass club get canceled?" Sock inquired with faux-innocence.

"Bold words for someone who supposedly needs my help," Mephistopheles said. "Anyway, can it wait until Wednesday? As you can imagine, we're not having a meeting on Christmas."

"I thought you weren't allowed to say the C-word," Sock teased.

Meph raised his eyebrows. "You wanna play that game, Sowachowski?"

"No, no," Sock said hurriedly. "It can wait until Christmas."

"Good. Now go find something constructive to do with yourself."

"Yes, sir." Sock took this as carte blanche to demolish the snack table, and he did exactly that.

Armed with enough donuts to feed a small army, Sock sat down on the loveseat to wait for Jonathan to be found.

When he finally emerged from the depths of the Student Union and saw Sock, his face lit up in a way that made Sock's heart soar.

"Sock!" he hurried over the loveseat and sat down. "I was worried you weren't coming. I was gonna come check on you."

"Oh, I just slept in," Sock said. "I haven't been setting an alarm, and, uh…" The lie petered out on his lips, but Jonathan nodded, seeming to get the gist anyway.

"So," he said with an aside glance to Mephistopheles, who did not appear to be paying them any attention. "Tomorrow is the 24th."

Sock had little patience for the farce. "Christmas Eve."

Abandoning the joke at once, Jonathan nodded. "You want to hang out? We could stay in and watch movies again."

Sock looked away to hide his blush. "I do want to hang out, but I'm not sure if my attention span could handle a full day of watching movies."

"Fair enough," Jonathan said. "We could… Um… God, it's boring here."

At this brief lull, Mephistopheles looked up from his phone and addressed them with deliberate casualness. "Does anyone still sled on that big, dangerous hill behind the library?" he asked.

Sock looked at Jonathan. Jonathan looked at him blankly.

"No?" Sock ventured. "Is that allowed?"

"It's 'strongly discouraged' by Admin," Mephistopheles said. "So. Definitely don't do it."

\--

As it turned out, yoga mats made excellent sleds. Laughing and exhilarated, Sock stood up and jogged back up the hill, dragging the yoga mat behind him. It had been Jonathan's idea. After a bit of Googling, he'd produced the green, mandala-patterned mat from under his bed, shying away from Sock's amused smile and muttering something about mandatory phys ed electives.

"This is awesome!" Sock panted once he reached the top of the hill.

Jonathan looked at him, then at the hill, then at the yoga mat. "Do you think," he started thoughtfully, "Do you think we could go together? Or would we die?"

"Let's see." Sock tried to consider the logistics of fitting two people on a yoga mat, but mostly ended up considering how it would feel to wrap his arms around Jonathan.

Jonathan beat him to the punch. "Maybe if we sat in the middle and held onto the sides."

"Like a taco?" Sock cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah. Here." Jonathan positioned the yoga mat and sat down. "If you sit, um…" He bit his lip. "Here." He gestured between his legs.

"Awww, in your lap?" Sock cooed, saccharine and teasing. He sat down and pulled his legs in.

"Now grab the sides, and if I push off-- Oh!"

They started sliding, picking up a great deal more speed than Sock had been expecting. Then they started to spin, and Sock had just enough time to reflect that sledding was probably discouraged for a  _ reason _ before they hit a snowdrift and toppled over into the street.

"Let's not do that again," Jonathan said from somewhere behind Sock. Then he started to laugh.

Sock laughed as well, keenly aware of Jonathan's body heat on his back. He rolled over so they were facing each other. "That was awesome!"

They were almost nose-to-nose. Jonathan's laughter subsided until he was just smiling, smiling at Sock, and Sock was smiling back and looking into Jonathan's gray eyes. The heat of Jonathan's breath ghosted over Sock's lip. For a split second, neither of them moved.

Then Jonathan shot to his feet. "Let's not do that again," he repeated. He offered Sock his hand.

Sock took it, feeling strangely disappointed. What had he been expecting? Of course Jonathan wasn't going to kiss him. "What?"

"That was super scary! I thought we were gonna hit that truck over there." Jonathan pointed to a parked truck that they had, in fact, come perilously close to.

"Kinda makes me wish we had a proper sled," Sock said. "Can you imagine how fast we could go?" He jumped in place, half in excitement at the prospect and half to warm himself up. "We could build jumps!"

"Sure, if you wanna break your tailbone." Jonathan shook his head. "Hey, I never asked. Why did you stay here for Winter Break?"

"Oh." Sock picked up the yoga mat and began to trudge up the hill. "My parents decided to take all four of my grandparents to Hawaii, and I thought that sounded like a nightmare."

"Really?" Jonathan said. "You turned down Hawaii for  _ this _ ?" He gestured at the snowy landscape.

"Yeah," Sock said. He paused and looked at Jonathan, chest aching with longing. "It's worth it."


	6. Chapter 6

The credits ended, the lights came on, and Mephistopheles turned off the projector he'd brought to the Student Union for the day's WWI meeting.

"So," he said, clapping his hands. "Now that you're familiar with the source material. Die Hard: Christmas movie? Yes or no?"

"I thought you weren't allowed--" Jonathan started, but Meph stopped him with a raised hand.

"We are intellectuals engaging in educated debate," Meph said.

Sock noticed that several students had fallen asleep in their chairs. "Not  _ that _ educated," he said, gesturing at them.

"Jeeze." Meph rolled his eyes. "You try to do a fun thing."

Suddenly remembering that he was technically here to be an audience participant, Sock rallied his thoughts and said, "I think that Die Hard does  _ not _ count as a Christmas movie."

Meph smiled gratefully at him. "Supporting arguments?"

"Umm… Because…" Sock hadn't thought this far ahead. "The vibe is off." Jonathan laughed, but Sock was starting to pick up steam. "You know, because when you think of a Christmas movie, you think 'happy and childish,' not 'scary bald guy killing people.'"

By some miracle, Sock's opening argument got everyone else invested, to the point where the debate had gotten quite lively by the time the meeting came to a close. Sock hung back, pleasantly surprised when Jonathan paused and waited for him.

"I have to talk to Meph about something," Sock said. "For, um, next semester. College stuff."

"Oh, okay," Jonathan accepted this with a curt nod. "See you later, then."

"So what's up?" Meph asked when the last student left.

Sock's face went red-hot. "I need help wrapping my Secret Snowman gift."

"Oh, is that all?" Meph gave an exaggerated sigh. "I thought you were gonna tell me your grandma died or something." He shook his head. "What did you buy that you can't wrap on your own?"

"Ummm," said Sock, the blush not subsiding, "Well…"

"Here we go," Meph sighed.

"Well, I pulled Jonathan and I sorta went back to Divine Seventh--"

"You  _ didn't _ ," Meph said. "After I specifically asked everyone not to be assholes about money?"

"I'm sorry!" Sock squeaked.

"I'm kidding; I don't care." Meph laughed. "Go get it and meet me in the front parking lot."

"Are you gonna kidnap me?" Sock joked weakly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna take you back to my place and bore you to death. Hurry up."

\--

Sock placed the guitar, still in its makeshift casing, on Mephistopheles' coffee table and stepped back, his hands laced in front of him.

"Providence didn't even give you a box?" Meph asked, looking at the vaguely guitar-shaped mess of packing tape, bubble wrap, and grocery bags.

"No," Sock said. "I didn't think to ask."

"I'll have to give her shit about that." Meph laughed. "Anyway, sit tight. I'll go see what I have for wrapping paper." He started to leave the living room but stopped after a few steps. "And I do mean 'sit.'" He gestured at the couch. "Seriously, relax."

Sock sat. He wasn't particularly anxious by nature, but something about being  _ here _ , off campus with his professor, felt taboo, like he was breaking some sort of rule.  _ Was _ he?

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and looked around. Mephistopheles' apartment was spotless to the point of feeling cold, with all the stiff formality of a hotel room. There were no empty mugs on the end tables, no loose papers on the countertops. Aside from the silver menorah by the door, Mephistopheles' apartment was virtually indistinguishable from an IKEA showroom.

"Well," said Meph, re-entering. "I found two rolls of 'happy birthday' wrapping paper."

Sock turned to look. One of the rolls was obviously unacceptable, with "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" written all over in rainbow letters. The other was pale blue and covered in balloons. "Maybe that one?" he said, pointing.

"Yeah, I figured," Meph agreed. Dropping his armful of wrapping paper and tape on the floor, he knelt by the coffee table and started to study the guitar's irregular shape. "This would be so much easier if Provi had just given you a box."

" _ Provi _ ?!" Sock repeated before he could stop himself. Embarrassed at his lack of tact, he added, "You gave her a nickname for her nickname?"

"It's a long nickname," Meph said, taking the out. "So I think we're going to have to," he made a complicated hand gesture, "spiral."

"Spiral?" Sock repeated dubiously.

Meph repeated the hand gesture like it would make everything clear. "Because there aren't any edges."

Sock stared at him, uncomprehending. "Go for it."

Meph picked up the wrapping paper and got to work. Sock watched. Whatever Meph was doing looked complicated and frustrating, but he didn't look bothered. "So you're really in love with Jonathan, huh?"

"What?" Sock shouted. He lowered his voice back to an acceptable volume. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Come on, you two are practically inseparable," Meph cocked his head at Sock, looking genuinely confused. "You got him an expensive and thoughtful gift for a dumb Secret Santa thing. You trying to tell me you're  _ not _ in love with him?"

"I, uh… I--" Sock's mind was reeling. "Is it that obvious?"

"If he hasn't figured it out by now, he will when you give him this," Meph said, applying a piece of tape to the clumsily-wrapped guitar. "To be honest, I kind of thought you guys were already a thing."

"No," Sock said.

"We," said Meph, applying another piece of tape. "Here's hoping."

"What about you and Providence?" Sock asked, feeling like he'd earned this.

For a moment, Meph was quiet. He looked down at the guitar, then up at Sock. "Me and Providence? Eh, we're probably gonna end up killing each other one of these days."

"You guys fight?" Sock asked, unable to picture it.

"Well, sort of. It's complicated."

"But you're in love," Sock said. "What could be complicated about that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not seen Die Hard, don't @ me


	7. Chapter 7

The night before the Secret Snowman exchange, several days' worth of repression and panic began to rear up in Sock's brain, amplified in the echo chamber that was his empty dorm with its sparse walls and rainbow lights.

Meph was right, Jonathan would  _ know _ if Sock gave him the guitar. Sock didn't want that-- Not yet anyway.

In his mind, the Moonsault guitar had become inextricably tied to the concept of a love confession now. What had he been thinking? That wasn't the kind of thing you did in front of your major advisor and 10 strangers. Jonathan would be horrified.

No, there was no question about it. Sock absolutely could  _ not  _ give Jonathan the guitar, not until the time was right.

Sock vaulted out of bed and started to pull on clothes at random over his pajamas. He layered up in scarves, flannels, hoodies, thick socks, things he'd forgotten he even  _ owned _ , and topped it all off with his trapper hat. Then he grabbed his wallet and hit the road.

He was still shivering when he hit the checkout line at Walmart, arms piled high with candy. He had a gift bag and some tissue paper tucked under one arm. The gift was cheap, shallow, and perfectly devoid of sentimentality. Jonathan would love it.

\--

"Holy  _ shit _ , this is a lot of candy," Jonathan said, pawing through the bag. "There's no card."

"It's from me," Sock said, raising his hand and pointedly not looking at Mephistopheles.

Jonathan smiled. "Thanks, Sock."

"You're welcome." Sock had to look away, his cheeks heating up.

They moved around the circle. Sock received a tin of flavored hot chocolate from some dark-haired girl who rarely talked. When the meeting was over, Sock skirted carefully around Meph and Jonathan and went straight for the door with his head down and his hands clenched into fists.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Jonathan caught him by the shoulder just in front of the doors.

"Oh, uh, I'm just…" Sock looked at his tin of hot chocolate, "really excited to try this."

"You've never had Swiss Miss?" Jonathan asked with raised eyebrows.

"Nope!" Sock gave a shaky smile.

"God, it's like you're from a different planet sometimes." Jonathan brushed his bangs out of his face. "Anyway, do you want to get lunch? Anywhere you want."

Sock tried to think of a restaurant he thought Jonathan would like and came up tragically short. "Denny's?"

Jonathan made a face. "Who goes to Denny's on a Friday afternoon?"

"Broke college students?"

"Okay, fair enough."

"So," Jonathan said, plating his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his palm.

Sock looked up from his pancakes. "So?"

"Have you done any more 'research'?"

Sock blinked. "Oh, on Meph and Providence? Actually, I think I might leave them alone."

"Did something happen?" Jonathan asked. His eyes were wide, searching. The filtered gray sunlight peeking in through the window made them sparkle.

Sock looked down and dragged the tines of his fork through a river of melted whipped cream. "I asked Meph about it and he just said some stuff about them having history and wanting to kill each other." 

"Ah." Jonathan nodded sagely. "Hate sex."

"I don't know," Sock said. "They act like best friends. But…" He hesitated, and looked around. "Meph looked so sad when I brought it up."

Jonathan shrugged. "I dunno, then. But you're probably right to leave them alone." He tapped his knuckles on the table. "Damn, now I  _ really _ want to know what went down between them."

"That's funny," Sock said.

"What?"

"I never took you as the romantic type."

"I'm just nosy," Jonathan said, sitting back. "And, well. I get it. Love is scary, you know? The idea that you could bare your soul to someone and show them so much of yourself, and they reject you or hurt you, that's  _ scary _ ."

"Yeah," Sock said softly. Jonathan's words hit a little too close to home. He fidgeted.

"Ah, anyway," Jonathan laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get all philosophical and depressing. In a  _ Denny's _ ."

"I mean, you're right, though. Love  _ is _ scary."

"Yeah," Jonathan said.

They came perilously close to a tense, awkward silence but were saved by the appearance of their waitress, who deposited their bill on the table with a cheery "no rush!"

They rushed.

On their way out, Sock paused by the skill crane, momentarily transfixed by a small stuffed rabbit that seemed to be staring at him.

"You coming?" Jonathan, already halfway out the door, looked back at him. "Oh, no. What did you find?"

"Rabbit," Sock said plaintively.

Jonathan backed up and stood beside Sock. "I don't have any change."

Sock was already going for his wallet. "It takes card!" He paid for three tries and stood up. A small crowd of people came in through the door, causing Jonathan to step in closer to Sock to get out of their way.

He was close enough to rest his head on Sock's shoulder and a moment later, he did so. "You're running out of time," he said, and stepped back again.

"Huh?" Sock said. "Oh!" He wiggled the joystick and pressed the button. The claw descended, closed over the rabbit, and failed to get a grip on it.

"Damn," Jonathan said. "It's packed in too deep."

"I have two more tries," Sock said, wishing Jonathan would get closer again. "Maybe I can loosen it."

As if reading Sock's mind, Jonathan stepped in and again placed his head on Sock's shoulder so he could study the contents of the skill crane. "Nah, that stuffed puppy is holding it in place." His breath ghosted over Sock's cheek, and Sock had to fight not to shiver.

"What are you, some kind of skill crane expert?" He pressed the button and again, the claw failed to pick up the rabbit.

"It's just logic," Jonathan said. Sock, busy with his third attempt at the rabbit, didn't see Jonathan roll his eyes, but he heard it in his voice. The claw slipped over the rabbit and opened, empty. "Told you so."

"Alright, alright." Sock turned away from the machine and let Jonathan get the door for him.

As they walked back to campus, Sock recalled the way Jonathan's body had felt against his, how  _ natural _ it had felt. It didn't even matter that he didn't win the stuffed rabbit.

They turned onto the main road that passed through downtown and Jonathan said, "Oh."

"What?" Sock looked at him.

"I just remembered," Jonathan gestured at a food truck parked near the Plaza, "there's going to be an event downtown for New Year's Eve. Starts at 9:00."

"That sounds fun!" Sock said.

"We should go." Jonathan stuffed his hands in his pockets and shivered. "Man, I should have worn something heavier than just a hoodie."

"Want my hat?" Sock offered, only half-joking.

Jonathan laughed. "No way."

"What's wrong with my hat?"

"Aside from the obvious?" Sock stuck out his tongue, feeling more hurt than he cared to admit. Jonathan bumped him with his hip. "I'm just messing with you." He pulled up his hood and tightened the drawstrings. "See? I'm okay."

"Fine," Sock huffed, "but I'm not saving you if you get hypothermia."

"Please," Jonathan scoffed, "with my warm heart?" He shivered again and pulled his arms tight against his sides.

Sock wanted to link arms and hold Jonathan close, but a wave of fear stopped him. The idea that Jonathan would reject him, that this dream would shatter once Sock dared to reach out for what he wanted, loomed too large in his mind.

He wasn't ready.


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days passed in a mosaic of WWI meetings, instant noodles, and general pining. Having spent his grocery budget on the Moonsault guitar now collecting dust under his bed, Sock mostly lived off instant ramen and whatever Mephistopheles let him steal from the snack table. When Sock wasn't hanging out with Jonathan, he was lying around  _ thinking _ about him instead.

It was excruciating and, after three days subsisting on donuts and Lofthouse cookies, a little nauseating. The day of the New Year's Eve party, Sock eyed the mess he'd made of his dorm and made a decision. Tonight was the night. He  _ had _ to tell Jonathan how he felt or else he was going to drive himself crazy.

Of course, it was easier said than done. Already, Sock's hands were starting to shake with anticipation and fear.

In a desperate attempt to distract himself, Sock decided to clean and reorganize his dorm until it was spotless.

Sock knew he was more energetic than most people. He knew he had a tendency to throw himself at things armed with nothing more than a smile and a can-do attitude, often to the point of distraction. He was capable of immense focus when he applied himself, and, desperate for a distraction, he applied himself to cleaning with peculiar ferocity.

The hours disappeared in a blur and Sock didn't snap back to reality until he glanced out the window and realized that the sun was down.

"Shit!" he yelped, making a dive for his phone. It was already 10:00 o'clock. Cursing furiously under his breath, he pulled on his shoes, coat, and scarf, and dashed out the door to the elevator. He bounced on his toes the whole ride up and practically threw himself at Jonathan's door.

"Jonathan? You in there?"

No response. Sock ran for the elevator again and tapped out a quick text on his phone, explaining to Jonathan what had happened.

Then he realized he'd forgotten the guitar under his bed. His whole body thrumming with frantic energy, Sock pushed the elevator buttons with unnecessary force and repetition, making the halo of light around the "2" key flash.

When he finally reached the Plaza, Sock was gasping for breath. The icy air burned his lungs, but he didn't pause, just looked around frantically for Jonathan.

The only light came from the small fire pits placed in strategic locations on the brick and the bistro lights strung up over the tables. Sock paused to dig his phone out of his pocket and jumped when, a moment later, someone touched his shoulder.

"Damn, Sock, did you run here?" Jonathan asked.

"I didn't… want… to make you… wait," Sock explained between gasps for air.

"Well, thanks," Jonathan said. "Why are you holding a body bag?"

Sock clutched the wrapped-up Moonsault closer to his chest. "Oh, um." Heat flooded his face. This was  _ not _ how he'd pictured the evening going. "Ummm… It's for later."

"Okay. Hey." Jonathan lowered his voice. "Meph and Providence are here."

"I thought we weren't spying on them any more," Sock said.

" _ I  _ never spied on them," Jonathan said, affecting innocence. "We never said anything about gossiping though. And get this: They were holding hands."

"That's great." Sock smiled vacantly, trying to work up his nerve. He took a breath.

"So do you want to grab food?" Jonathan asked. "I haven't eaten yet; I was, uh. Waiting for you."

"I'm so glad you didn't think I ditched you," Sock said.

"You wouldn't do that to me," Jonathan replied, a soft smile on his lips. His face was only just visible in the flickering firelight.

"Uh, listen." Sock hefted the guitar, balancing it on his hip. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"It's a little late to be asking for permission, don't you think?" Jonathan teased, but he looked around and studied their surroundings. "There's a bench across the street, if that's what you had in mind."

"That's perfect." Sock held the guitar close and followed Jonathan across the street. The night was cloudy and the moon was only visible as a halo of pale light in the sky. Sock sat down and looked up at it, taking a deep breath.

"So what's up?" Jonathan asked, fidgeting with his hoodie drawstrings.

Sock set the Moonsault in his lap. "I got this for you."

Jonathan's expression softened from curiosity to something Sock didn't recognize. Tenderness? He accepted the bundle of tape and wrapping paper. "Secret Snowman is over, you know."

"It's not about that," Sock said. "I mean, it  _ was _ but it's not now."

"Cryptic," Jonathan said.

"Are you going to open it?"

"Yeah." Jonathan tore off the wrapping paper with surprising care, making sure that none of it fell onto the sidewalk. Sock took it upon himself to help Jonathan collect the stray pieces, mostly to distract himself from his pounding heart.

When all the packaging had been torn away and Jonathan stared, soundless, at the Moonsault, Sock took a deep, deep breath and said, "Jonathan, I--"

"Sock." Jonathan kissed him. Sock froze, almost unable to process what was happening. Jonathan kissed  _ him? _ This was not part of the plan. Well. It wasn't unwelcome.

His brain having finally caught up with reality, Sock kissed back instead of just sitting there like a statue. Jonathan's lips were warm against his own, and his body was starting to tremble.

Now that he had started kissing Jonathan, Sock found he didn't want to stop. Not ever. Jonathan pulled away, finally, and he was smiling like Sock had never seen him smile. "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that," he said. One of his hands was still wrapped firmly around the neck of the Moonsault.

"Oh," Sock said, thinking back to their first meeting. "I think I have an idea."

Jonathan sighed happily and looked at the Moonsault. "I can't believe you did this for me. Sock, _thank_ _you._ I love it."

"You're welcome," Sock said, unsure of what else to say.  _ Of course; I would do anything for you _ . "Do you want to go back to the party?"

"Yes," Jonathan said. "Please. I'm starving."

Sock laughed and stood up to throw away the wrapping paper. "You didn't have to wait for me."

Jonathan his hand as they walked back across the street. "You wouldn't ditch me like that."

They reentered the circle of warmth on the Plaza. Sock squeezed Jonathan's hand and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeyy I had to upload the last 7 chapters all at once before heading to work so uhh yeah hope you liked!
> 
> If you wanna talk, i'm OurLordApollo over on Tumblr


End file.
